Monster Inside My Head
by KittyChameleon
Summary: There's a Monster in my head, I'm not sure if they are real. They are always there when things get bad. Sometimes they make things better, sometimes they make things worse...are they real or just a monster in my head...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: **Warnings: Brief Descriptions of Violence and Death. Cussing.**

**Song Suggestion: 8 Graves ****_Burning Alive_**

_He fell._

_He had let go if he couldn't have the last word he would at least have the last stab, even if it was only an emotional one. The look in his faux brother's eyes almost made it worth it. __**Let my face torment you for the rest of your days.**_

_And fell..._

_Surely he should have perished by now, how is he still falling? The void offered no answers and gave no comfort to the Dark Prince. Alone in his thoughts, he starts to panic realizing he might have acted rashly in his impassioned state. His body twists and flails as he tries to make sense of where he was falling. A futile effort, the vast expanse of space is as devoid of life as it is silent_

_And fell..._

_The screams were soundlessly ripped from his throat and the tears freeze on his cheeks. Loki's jotunn skin becoming chapped as the eerie, noiseless wind started to whip around him, tearing at his clothing and increasing his decent speed. __**Finally, an end.**__ He is unsure if he was ready to die or if he had any fight left in him, as drained as he was. Suddenly it wasn't up to him. The once silent wind started to whisper around him, then roar as he rockets downward. With the appearance of what seems to be an atmosphere the noise returned. His ears were assaulted with his own screams of terror, his pulse pounding painfully in his temple. Contorting his lanky frame he turned downward and saw only a rapidly approaching darkness. Gritting his teeth he closed his eyes. _

A grungy, off-white room is dimly illuminated by a small clouded window silhouetting a hunched figure on an iron wrought bed. They are turned away, voluminous dotted gown hiding any real detail about them. All noise is muffled but the desperation and manic nature of the screams were palpable.

A sudden shaft of light appearing is coupled with the figure violently lurching away. Scrabbling like a wild animal. Several large figures enter the room and surround the frightened occupant. Sweat could be seen glistening on the shaved scalp, the eyes wide and white with fear, mouth agape in a feral scream of defiance. The ring of people close in, and they grab limbs in steel grips. The noise slowly bleeds in as the visuals fade; the scream is high-pitched and desperate, only stopping for a quick gasping breath or a sob. Before going completely dark the shaft of light from the doorway illuminates the eyes in brilliant detail. The eyes so wide in fear is a shocking blue, a sunflower corona in the center, the whites turning red from tears and are framed by long brown lashes.

_It ends, the sounds and visuals gone replaced by his own shallow breathing and hammering heartbeat. Tongue darting out to lick cracked lips, his throat too raw from screaming to speak, Loki opened his eyes and immediately forgot his strange vision. _

_Millions of stars are above him, galaxies and their colored gases making the view mystical to even him. He blinked and realized he can't move, carefully he tries to assess what has him held fast. That's when he hears it, soft high-pitched clicking, almost insect-like, he attempts to lift his head to confront his captors and the clicking increases in speed and pitch. It was torture to his pounding skull, as suddenly as it started, the clicking stops and an otherworldly silence fell. "Hello Jotunn," a rasping voice said...then all he knew was heat and pain._

The Attack in New York

Hannah was struggling, which isn't unusual for the 27-year old, life had been hard for her, and the lonely move to New York two years ago was no different; a college dropout she always put others in front of her, even if it hurt her metaphorically and literally. At this moment it was the former rather than the latter.

There are glass, metal, and people scattered everywhere on the floor of the cafe. Moans of pain and screams of fear overcoming the usual music drifting through the speakers. Her ears were ringing, so she wasn't completely aware of any of this. _What the fuck..._ she wiped the grime off her face only to smear it with the blood that trickled from a cut on her brow.

Sudden pressure, heat, and vibrations the only indications that a battle raged outside. Her hearing still gone, she shakily got to her feet dust coating her entire body and slowly looked around. She was shell shocked, she knew this, she had felt this before, she shook her head trying to remove the cobwebs that kept her from being able to process what was happening. She was unsuccessful, rooted to the spot by a wave of nausea, A concussion? Her shoulder was shoved into an overturned table by a patron pushing her aside in his frantic dash away from..._What the FUCK?_ a seven-foot-tall monster lopped into the hole that used to be the front of the building. Even as her blood ran cold, her feet started to move. Almost immediately after exiting the building through a broken window, she was swept away in a panicked herd of people. Realizing the tiniest misstep would end in her being trampled, possibly to her death, she attempted to keep up with the writhing mass.

Luck was not with her, an explosion to her left made her lose her balance, and she went down. She screamed and screamed but the crowds own panic drowned out her pleas. Pain so much pain! Funny enough the cause of her pain is what saved her, another explosion rocked the street and scattered the crowd. Hannah's ribs were on fire, Probably a broken rib...or two, she rolled on to her knees taking shallow breaths to avoid aggravating her ribs. She was covered in cuts and scrapes, places were already bruising, a dark shadow looms over her and just like that her hearing returns.

"ROAR" a giant snake-like creature sideswipes the building in front of her, and she screams for what feels like the millionth time. Worse, more monsters fall from the underside of the snake creature. Seemingly hearing the weakness in her scream, a group turns towards her and start sprinting toward her. "FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!", she scrambles towards the nearest alleyway, ribs be damned. She hides behind a dumpster, unaware that she has left a trail of blood for them to follow.

_What are those things? Monsters? Aliens? Government experiments?_ she didn't have long to muse before the dumpster she had taken shelter behind slams her violently into the wall. Stars dance before her eyes as her head smacks the wall with a sickening crack, _This is it..._ the monster in front picks her up by the neck, shes vaguely aware of the throbbing and pain throughout her body and she whimpers for mercy. It cocks its head and opens its maw in what can be only described as a hissing laugh. _This asshole..._ weakly she lifts a hand and flips it off, immediately she regrets it when the creature breaks her finger. "AHHHHHH!" seemingly annoyed it shakes her silent.

They drag her out of the alleyway, most of the fight has left her, and she quietly sobs. _Think Hannah, how can you get out of this? I can't do this, it's different this time._ All of her rational thoughts were jumbled, all her experience and mental training failing her. She let the tears flow freely and profusely. Finally, the group stops walking and it flings her into a group of huddled frightened people, several hands grab her and help her stand. All for nothing as the creatures begin to line them up and shove them onto their knees. Many people try bargaining with them, bribing them, reasoning with them; to no avail, a quick hand across the face silences further talking and most deteriorate into sobs and prayers to various entities.

_Why is this happening? Nononononono._ Hannah's mental gibbering distracts her from the first shot. The second causes her head to whip to her left, the creatures start executing one by one. A few people try to break free and run, only to be shot or chased down and stomped to death. She bites her lip until it bleeds, her body hurts, her head is foggy and she sobs harder, explosions, screams, death, fire, it all swirls around her and she breaks. Her mind disengages from her body as the screams from the woman beside her get cut off suddenly and she knows it's her turn.

She tilts her head to the sky, eyes unfocused breathing ragged and uneven, she is barely aware of what's happening. The weapon is raised to her head, a shot rings out...and the creatures collapse._ Huh..._ a dull pain in her stomach tells her she is alive.

A/N: And there we have it the first chapter. Like/comment/share. I would love to know how to improve, I am a novice writer so feedback is a must. Song suggestions are for the overall feel of the story not just the chapter so feel free to listen and relisten as the story goes on.


	2. Chapter 2

She survived...if you can call it that, her mind is scattered and fractured. She is conscious but unaware of most things around her. Partially due to the heavy medication, partially the trauma.

3 Months Earlier

_She awoke to someone placing something in her arm, and she reacted, violently. "Gahaaaaa!" she ripped it out and brandished it like a blade, slashing at the poor nurse. He attempted to dodge, but she caught him entirely by surprise, if not for her weakened state lasting damage would've happened to his leg. _

_"ORDERLY!", he shouted clamping a hand to his bleeding thigh. Several burly men came into the room and surrounded her. Eyes wide with confusion and fear she backed into a corner screaming incoherently. As she twisted trying to keep everyone in her line of sight, she ripped the stitches in her stomach, pain causing her to release the needle. The orderlies took action tackling the paling woman to the ground striving to limit damage inflicted to her already taxed frame. Hannah fainted, from fear or blood loss only a doctor could say, but it made placing the IV and closing her stitches much easier. _

_Four more times she woke and attacked, four more times she had to be strapped back to the bed. _

_Doctor Thaddeus Monroe maintained a hectic schedule ever since the alien attack a month ago, many didn't survive, those who did had permanent damage either physical or mental. Hannah Everest was one of the few with both, the shot she received would have been fatal if it were from an Earthly weapon. Due to the extraterrestrial nature, it was a clean wound in and out, her biggest threat: head trauma and her apparent unstable mental state. _

_He studied her medical file and shook his head. It was no wonder she reacted in the way she did with what the Manila folder revealed. Even so, she had consistently proved a danger to herself and others, and he felt he had no choice but to recommend she be transferred to a mental facility for a thorough mental evaluation. He sighed and shook his head, drafting a final report on the young woman who survived so much only to end up broken, perhaps beyond repair. _

She sits on the thin sheets covering an even thinner mattress. Her days are spent in a daze only deepened by her stay at the institute she currently called home. The door opened with a metallic click, her head never moving from staring at the wall.

"Greetings Hannah. How are we today?", a voice filled with honey; to outsiders it was pleasant, calming even, but to the many patients it addresses it only adds to their anxiety. "Not speaking still? Tsk, you can at least attempt to glance my way." the voice continues. Hannah still doesn't react, not out of spite, she merely wasn't there.

_A primitive slab in the middle of a shadowy arena, the floor is covered in various colored stains. Movement can be seen at the edges of the darkness, mechanical and ridged, definitely not human, too tall, too thin. They swarmed at the fringe, unwilling...or perhaps unable to break free, toward the illuminated raised slab. _

_From a floor level stairway, a creature of a different caliber entered, arena-bound. With its appearance the swarm stilled and a quiet clicking could be heard. Too many fingers on humanoid hands were crossed across its chest. The skin dusky indigo and covered in an elaborate cloak, its face is partially obscured by the cowl, a gold cage enveloped its mouth without hindering its ability to speak._

_"Hello Jotunn..." the voice rasped, as if it was rarely used, it addressed a figure struggling on the slab. "Enough of that calm yourself or I will do it for you...", the figure continued to thrash. A cruel smile appeared as if pleased with the defiance and it raised its hand, in it was a wicked looking device that glowed white before being placed on the forehead of the man. "AUGHHHHHH!"_

Something grips Hannah's arm and she slowly turns her vacant eyes to the offending hand. "So, you still respond to physical stimuli. That's...good." The voice again, if she heard it, Doctor Andrews wouldn't be able to tell, her face remains placid. His mouth turns down in a frown noticing that once again her hair is in an unacceptable state. "James?' he calls out to the nearest orderly.

"Yessir?" a deep voice answers.

"Why have you not kept her head shaven as per my request?" Dr. Andrews says a smile on his pointed face pulls flesh taunt, it distracts from the dangerous glint in his brown eyes. James audibly gulps and rushes off. "Now..._Hannah_," he utters her name akin to savoring a particularly good piece of meat, "we are going to take care of that disgusting rat's nest, don't you worry." he coos. Her gaze remains locked on his boney hand, noticing it he gives a squeeze...slowly increasing pressure while monitoring her face. No reaction to the bruising pressure being placed on her arm.

_Hmm_. before he can contemplate more James returns with a worn pair of clippers, he pauses at the doorway catching his breath and waiting for permission. Dr. Andrews rolls his eyes at the incompetence of his staff. "Come in, come in James." motioning to hand him the clippers, Dr. Andrews rises from the bed, springs groaning in protest.

James nears Hannah's prone figure and prepares to grab her shoulders, he is painfully familiar with her outbursts and sports a scar or two from past encounters.

_Dr. Andrews entered the examination room, its walls painted beige in an effort to calm nerves. A young woman is strapped to the bed, her blue eyes wild and searching, her arms flexed anxiously in her restraints. "Hannah, my name is Dr. Andrews. Do you know where you are?"_

_Hannah's eyes snapped in his direction, her mouth working wordlessly. He grinned and several burly attendees slid into the room behind him. She paled momentarily before her breathing took on a ragged quality, she was panicking and her eyes became unfocused. __**What does she see in this moment?**__ he mused before continuing with the evaluation. "I'll take that as a no. Now then, can you tell me why you think you're here?" no response his smile faltered. He snapped his fingers in a futile attempt at gaining her attention, a small flinch in the corner of her eye was rewarding enough for the smile to return. Testing the limits of this reaction he slammed his binder closed with a loud crack. _

_Hannah's eyes began to roll, searching the room for whatever ghosts she perceived. In her panicked thrashing, she draws blood where skin meets restraints. A few orderlies approach, a bad decision on their part as a blood-slicked hand lashed out and claws sank into exposed flesh. "AUGHH" James clutched his arm fleeing to seek treatment. Dr. Andrews slunk across the room "That's enough now." a syringe to her neck and Hannah complies, going limp. _

James shakes the memories away and focuses on Hannah, she is calm seemingly uninterested or unaware of what is taking place. Dr. Andrews has moved away to observe from the corner. Always watching and always taking notes, his obsessive nature lends itself well to the field he has chosen to work in. James and his fellow orderlies carefully restrain her, muscles taut in preparation for the smallest sign of a fit. Hannah seems to allow them this, her head lolling to one side as they complete their task.

Jotting one last note in his file, Dr. Andrews strolls boldly forward, "Time for your pills, Hannah. Open wide like a good girl." an orderly shifts in place, not entirely comfortable with the tone of voice being used. Nonetheless, she allows the pills and water to pass her lips and even swallows them without much fight. After checking her mouth and finding the pills are indeed gone, Dr. Andrews nods and the orderlies leave. After the last burly frame abandons the doorway, a subtle shift in atmosphere takes place, a gloomy room becomes more desolate; seemingly oblivious, Hannah shifts closer to the wall.

After taking a moment to clean his glasses, Dr. Andrews strides over to the bed and places a large hand upon bald scalp. "Hannah, you have made such progress." he is, of course, referring to the pliable state she was constantly in due to medication. He slowly begins to stroke her head, smile growing wider, taking his other hand he brings it close to her ear and snaps. Hannah's eyes widen but no other reaction can be seen. "Hmn..." the hand is removed and he walks to the door. "Dinner will arrive in ten minutes."

After Dr. Andrews leaves she seems to collapse inside herself, seemingly more confused than before her external vision fading from memory like most of her day to day interactions. Underneath her thin hospital clothes her skin is littered with mystery bruises and marks varying in size and stages of healing, Hannah doesn't remember getting them and her mind files the strange situation away as unimportant. Her mind...it was healing, or so it seemed, thanks to the copious pills shoved in her mouth several times a day, what was once a frightening existence is now a numb, hazy paradise. _Except those fucking hallucinations_ during one of her more lucid moments she had decided that they were merely caused by the pills, never mind the fact they happened before she even started being medicated, it was the safest explanation she could come up with.

A loud knock sends her back into her body and she balefully looks at James with the tray. He flinches away as she lurches for the food, her medicine making her uncoordinated and jerky. A raised sleeve exposes several yellow and green handprints.

_A moonless night cast everything into shadow as the sun set completely, the weak starlight barely piercing the veil of gloom in Hannah's room. In the safety of the dark, she huddled deeper in her small blanket, the unfamiliar room caused her anxiety to teeter on the edge of complete panic. "I can't be here..." she muttered, stressed almost to breaking after the third time of refusing pills. "They are so much stronger here... so much more frequent. I can't stand it." her whimpers grew in volume as thudding footsteps halted at her door. "Nononononono..." hinges opened silently and a blinding shaft of light cut the stifling darkness, while seemingly wave after wave of orderlies came in. multiple hands to a limb with vice-like pressure. Hannah screamed and thrashed, more hands were added to the fray, soon all she could do was moan in anguish as Dr. Andrews entered the room. "Hello, Hannah." his tone made her skin crawl and the look in his eye made it worse, in his right hand a small paper cup, in his left a medieval-looking device. _

_"Stay the FUCK AWAY!" she renewed her attempt at escape and was thwarted as the pressure increased painfully. He strode forward his signature smile widening as he fit the metal device between her lips, levering her jaws apart he stared directly into her eyes as he deposited the medication with a sick satisfaction. After she was forced to swallow or suffocate, Andrews procured a tranquilizer filled syringe to finish the deed. Her last thought before darkness descended was of absolute hatred for Dr. Andrews. _

Hannah remembers none of it, the pills do their job and as a side-effect keep her mind from remembering. She finishes her meal, turning back towards her usual spot, time slipping unnoticed, twilight approaching the only indicator of its passage; at this moment a small part of her mind fights against the drugs keeping her placid. A plan is hatched and set into motion, and Hannah smiles into space.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you to the 13 readers who have made it this far! I love each and every one of you! Most of this chapter is in the past BUT it's from our boys POV so there's a bit of a treat! Please comment/review and share, those things give me life.

**Warnings: Forced pill feeding, mild cussing, slight graphic descriptions of minor surgery**

**Song Suggestion: Deep Blue Sea-Miso**

With the moon leaving the sky, so too do the drugs in her system, their grip on her mind starts to fade and she becomes more aware of her surroundings. She rubs the grit from her eyes and decides with a solemn finality that yesterday was her last dose of medication. She has no clue what day or month it is, and it scares her, but she cements herself to her new path. Footsteps seem to appear out thin air stopping in front of her door, still heavy and sluggish from the last dose she tries to mentally prepare for the momentous task ahead. An unfamiliar face approaches her bed with a small paper cup, easily acting the part she sits up in bed ready to receive her pills. Thick fingers grab her wrist, placing the cup delicately in her palm he stares at her expectantly. Taking a fraction too long he grabs both her jaw and the cup, upending the latter then clamping the former shut. _Keep calm, you gotta be convincing._ Hannah mimics swallowing but he seems to be aware of her ploy and plugs her nose, with no other choice she allows them to slide down her throat with a weak glare at the orderly. Satisfied with his job well done he leaves securing the door behind him.

As soon as the heavy clunk of the lock sliding into place is heard she comes partially to life, body sluggishly moving away from her bed, attempts are made to rid herself of the medicine. Hannah is aware that if she doesn't...bad things will happen, she isn't clear on what, the drugs have been in her system too long for clear memories to form. Gagging around her fingers procures no results, only massive volumes of drool and snot; tears prick at the corner of her eyes and she prays. To who or what she does not know. **_Please, please, help..._** and suddenly, she feels a foreign weight in her mind

_Loki had been defeated, utterly and the humiliation still burned in his veins, it was at the forefront of his mind as he was led bound and gagged by his "brother". As if the defeat wasn't punishment enough, he was to return to Asgard and stand trial in front of the man who claimed to love him as his own. Like a fool, he had gotten too eager in his quest to prove Odin wrong that he made mistakes that ended up proving grievous. _

_"Loki!' Thor's voice loud and booming as ever pulled his attention outward. Hiding his disgust for the gathered Miguardians he calmly turned his gaze slightly upward; unable to speak or use magic, he attempted to make his feelings felt through his burning emerald eyes. A boyish smile stretched the face in front of him and he couldn't help rolling his eyes in agitation. Nothing, save intergalactic war, seemed to phase Thor, as children Loki used this to his advantage daily, now...it seemed to irk him more than anything. Although if he thought about it, the irritation was most likely caused by the gag in his mouth, the disgusting tasting metal made it impossible to speak, breath even. Once again Thor's voice interrupts his thoughts._

_"Brother! Can you not focus? Do not tell me the Hulk injured you far more grievously than we thought?" Behind Thor, Banner could be seen taking a sudden interest in the conversation. Loki shook his head, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing his exact condition. "Too bad..." Stark snickered from the right and Loki's hands clenched in an effort to not lash out __**As if I could in these shackles**__ he thought being led further towards the one called Fury. There, the greatest insult of all, the Tesseract waited to take them home. His steps felt heavy as he approached the device that started it all, so close yet so far...if only... __**If only what? I could grab it and teleport? Even it were possible to break the death-hold the oaf has on my arm, these enchanted shackles can only be removed by Odin, damned blood-magic.**__ for a third time, his thoughts are interrupted by Thor. _

_"Are you ready, Brother?", as if to answer him Loki grunted and Thor grasped the Tesseract sending them hurtling towards Asgard. It was a rough trip, nothing like the smooth travel provided by the Rainbow Bridge. Loki fought nausea as their feet touched unceremoniously down in Himedalls observatory, its reconstruction nearly complete and the Golden-eyed God turned from his post to greet the Prince. "Hello Prince Thor..." his deep voice was quiet but seemed to reverberate through the room. Thor smiled and waited for him to greet Loki, who in turn knew the snub was intentional and he rolled his eyes. A small frown appeared but quickly disappeared with a glance at his crown prince. "...Hello Loki." Thor's grin faltered but quickly recovered when their transport arrived._

_"The bridge has not yet repaired itself from your last encounter, Brother" he explained almost nonchalantly, but Loki noticed the smile doesn't reach his eyes. __**Please as if it was me who broke the bridge! He must have taken one hit to the head too many.**__ Loki stepped on to the golden ship and braced himself as they piloted their way toward the Grand Hall where Odin awaits with his Old World judgment. When they arrived at the castle murmurs could be heard from outside yet the guards kept the crowd far from view. "I apologize for the roundabout route, Brother...we thought it best until Odin has a chance to speak," Thor explained shame written on his face. Loki scoffs, he cared little about what the common folk who arrived to gawk at the fallen prince thought. They were the easily swayed, the mob mentality sort, the lowest of Asgardians. _

_They entered the Grand Hall and Thor removed the gag from his mouth, working his jaw he grinned wolfishly at the Warriors Three coming to escort them to the throne. Their glares almost hurt, in his youth he had genuinely tried to make friends with them, only to realize they, like the rest of Asgard, only cared for physical prowess. Nonetheless, their betrayal after he had taken the throne had cut him deeply. He didn't expect their love but he expected their loyalty to the throne, but it seemed that it was specifically because of him that they would finally break years of blindly following a king and think for themselves. __**A disappointing reality, no matter it is in the past**__, Loki's smile faded as everyone in the room stood to attention as Odin and Frigga enter the room. At the sight of his mother, his heart clenched; it nearly broke when her eyes met his. They were full of pain and worry for, he could only assume, him. As much as he was loath to admit any wrongdoing, that single look from the one person, he felt understood him, nearly ended him. _

_His self-loathing was immediately halted at when Odin began to speak. "Loki Odinson, yo-" _

_"Laufeyson" he interjected with a snarl, ignoring his mothers hurt intake of breath. He was simply fed up with Odin's narcissistic insistence on claiming him as his son after everything he had put him through. _

_"__**Odinson**__," Odin continued forcefully, "you stand before your king for crimes against not only your home of Asgard but also the realm of Midgard." Loki's eyes rolled at the use of the word "crime", he had read the ancient texts, he knew Odin and his forefathers had done the same, if not worse in their days of conquest. Why should he, a Prince, feel bad for continuing the tradition of not only conquering a lesser people but also attempting to better them by becoming their King?_

_Thor's elbow in his side brought him back from his tangent, to see Odin's singular eye glaring at him. "Loki, I feel you have no idea about the consequences of your actions. Had it been anyone else, it would end in __**death**__. However, both your mother and brother have begged for mercy on your behalf." _

_"Mercy I didn't ask for __**father**__. How can you sit there like a hypocrite and lecture me about war and conquest?!" Loki started, ignoring the pleading look of his mother and the sudden pressure of Thor's hand on his elbow. "You yourself have murdered thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, in the name of Asgardian glory. Is it only wrong when I do it? I do not recall such punishment for Thor when he went to Jotunheim and provoked war! He was not labeled a war criminal, nor placed in chains! He was not gagged and made to stand trial for destroying their temples and homes! Were the people allowed to gather and gawk at him for nearly starting a war on our own soil?" his rage was rising only to be matched by the fury in Odin's face. "No, he was not, was he __**father**__. He was merely sent away on a leisure trip to Midgard until he could lift his damned hammer once more!"_

_A sudden pressure filled the room as the All-father's magic flared, some of the guards flinched at the show of power from the old God. _

_"__**ENOUGH**__!" Odin's voice boomed through the spacious hall, seeming to shake the very foundations, "You are a Prince of Asgard, as much as you refuse to acknowledge it! You will act as such! That being said your actions not only reflected badly upon you but all of us as a whole! I will hear no more from you until you are able to fully recognize your mistakes! My sentence is this 200 years in the royal cells, and your lips will be bound henceforth until such a time as I decide!" _

_Frigga's eyes widen with shock and Thor attempted to interject but a swift gesture from his father silenced the usually loud God. Loki seemed to pale even more than usual at the venom in Odin's voice along with the proclamation of his punishment. Without further words Odin strode from the room, Frigga taking one last glance at her sons before following her husband. _

_"B-brother..." Thor started but armed guards approached._

_"Pardon, Prince Thor, your father ordered Loki's binding to happen immediately." they came between them, grabbing Loki's arms roughly before leading him out of the room. _

_"I can walk just fine," Loki growled, wrenching from their grasps and straightening his clothes. __**I will have dignity if nothing else.**__ As he was lead past the Warriors Three, he saw the satisfaction in Sifs eyes, the glee in Fandrals eyes, genuine sadness in Volstagg's eyes and the stoic nothingness in Hogun's eyes. Thor approached them and suddenly they were all sad smiles to see their chosen Prince. _

_Through countless halls Loki walked, passing many servants, some bold enough to look into his eyes, a well-timed glare seemed to remind them of their place. as they neared the infirmary Loki's steps slowed and almost faltered but his accompanying guards made sure he had no room to slow, let alone stop. "In here, __**Prince**__ Loki." the guard to the left motioned with a mocking bow. A tiny snarl escaped his lips as his feet entered the stone doorway of the infirmary. _

_It was familiar to him, in his youth he spent many days learning all he could from the skilled healers such as his mother and her students, yet on this day it held a sinister quality. Gone were the many young students of medicine going about their daily tasks of making tonics, hanging herbs and enthusiastic note-taking at lecture; instead the large windows funneled the sunlight onto a single bed, restraints gleaming with ill-promises. _

_Now it had finally sunk in, the sight of the restraints rousing dark memories to surface and old wounds to twinge. A cold sweat broke out on his brow as the guards had to forcefully put him into the bed, Loki unknowingly started to resist. Tremors started in his hands and feet as the guards grin and step back to attention, from a doorway further in the infirmary an elderly Asir approaches Loki, the head healer Frode, a man Loki had grudgingly decided to respect. However, at this moment there was no respect in Loki's eyes just fear and loathing for what was about to occur._

_Frode was calm, as always and approached the prone Prince with a large needle and enchanted thread. With a heavy sigh he threads the needle and turned to Loki, "I have been instructed to keep you awake and lucid." he delivered it with logical detachment but Loki could see he didn't agree with it himself. For whatever reason, it snapped Loki out of his fear._

_A smirk appeared and he snarled "Do your best work Healer, this face is far too perfect to ruin with shoddy work." it was the last bit of sass he delivered before Frode began. At first, he screamed, tears formed but never fell and he strained against the leather at his wrists. If not for the enchanted quality of the thread he would have choked on his own blood, it was a small mercy given by Frode. _

_Then it was over, his wrists were released and the guards had to physically hold him as they escorted him to the Royal Cells. Up several flights of stairs he was dragged, half-conscious, to a gilded cage at the top of a tower. They set the exhausted Prince upon his four-poster bed and left, shutting the heavy rune encrusted door behind them, its magical lock momentarily glowed. _

_Several hours later he woke and immediately frowned, which was a regretful decision to say the least as pain shot from the tender holes enchanted thread was weaved through. __**Blasted Odin, this is just another example of his favoritism.**__ Feather light touches to his mouth confirmed the completeness of Frode's work. After a long exhale, he decided to explore his surroundings. Rounded walls half covered in towering floor to ceiling bookcases, a large bed farthest from the door, and beside that a small bathroom with a deep tub and minuscule sink. There were two barred windows high above his reach that followed the path of the sun allowing for natural light, several lamps for nocturnal reading were placed throughout the room, along with basic furnishings for meals and leisure. A loud growl stopped his exploration, with a deep groan he wondered how he was to eat anything in his current state. _

_As if on cue a guard pounded on the door and announced the arrival of his evening meal. A plain servant girl entered, a quick fearful glance around the room ended with a startled squeal at the sight of the glowering Prince. She hurried across plush, woven carpets and cobbled floors to the beautifully carved table the Prince stood by. On the tray she hastily placed down was a large chalice containing what could only be a blended meal, next to it a smaller cup and an ewer of water, two straws were to be his mode of feeding. Fearfully she bowed and bolted for the door seemingly shaking with terrified sobs. The door once again slammed shut and he was alone again. __**The rumors must have already started to fly.**__ He shook his head in disgust as he contemplated his meal, steeling himself he reaches for the blended monstrosity but before he could bring it fully to his lips his vision blurred._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry for the long absence I have been having terrible writer's block. I've also been trying to get better at dialogue.**

_Song Suggestion: 8Graves Bury Me Low_

When his vision clears he appears to be in a room, so different from his own but its purpose so eerily similar. In the middle of the room is a female, her body hunched over into a puddle of her own drool, her eyes stare unfocused somewhere to his right.

"Help me...someone please help me." the gravely female voice is weak and the desperation is palpable.

Loki's mind whirls, _Who is this Midgardian and how is she able to do this, is this perhaps a punishment or test put forth by Odin?_ in the middle of his contemplation his audience finally notices his presence.

Fear, replaces the desperation, "W-who are you?"

Loki unsure if he should engage with what could be a trap hesitates, noticing in that exact moment he realizes his lips are no longer bound, before formally announcing his presence. "I am Loki of Asgard." no immediate reaction is visible, shocking Loki into another bought of silence.

"You're not one of them?" Hannah stares at the stranger in her room, the odd sensation that time has come to a stop allows her mind to come to focus in what feels like forever. The pain and fatigue miraculously disappeared. He is tall, slender, and dressed strangely. His coal colored hair curls around his shoulders, dark brows furrow over emerald, thickly lashed eyes. As if he feels her scrutiny, the romanesque nose crinkles and his thin lips turn into a scowl.

"One of whom?" the voice could cut ice, hinting at cruelty with no bounds, but the woman is still unfazed, but further conversation is cut off as a slight pain behind his naval snaps him back into his room.

_What in the Nine Realms was that?_ around him the soft glow of the sun alerts him that only a few moments had passed, I sense no residual illusion... he splays his long fingers feeling the air around him No portal has opened... presented with a puzzle, Loki's mind quickly abandons all thoughts of food.

He gently parts his stinging lips, tongue flitting between them to taste the air for the tang of magic, but only detecting the warm flavor of aromatic herbs. He approaches the curved stone walls, emerald eyes searching for hidden runes among the textures of stone and mortar. Still no clues as to what would cause such a strange vision.

Before he could make any further attempts at searching, the stone door opens abruptly, startling the dark prince.

_What...what the fuck was that?_ the heavy sensation of time returns causes a massive wave of nausea to overcome her and she begins to gag. Quickly Hannah scrambles to her small toilet and empties the contents of her stomach. As she dry heaves she senses she is alone and can't be sure if the "vision" was caused by stress, trauma or the lingering drugs still in her system.

Footsteps outside her door cause her head to whip sickeningly fast towards her bed and her feet follow, in order for her plan to work, she must act accordingly. Mere moments before the door opens she falls into her habitual stance, staring at the grungy wall.

James, the orderly, enters after hearing uncharacteristic sobbing coming from Hannah's room. Usually too medicated to do more than groan and rock in place, it was something that the Doctor would want to be investigated. Upon entering he nearly slips in a puddle. A series of grunts and quiet curses accompany his struggle to regain balance. _Please be drool, please be drool._ Eyes traveling downward he lets out a soft sigh of relief, the simple confirmation of drool is enough to chase away the instinctual anger he feels when a patient is in need of extra aid.

"Hannah, look at me", James' voice is gravely and nasally, when no reaction is given he roughly grabs her shoulder, slight flinch goes unnoticed. "Hannah." with a jerking motion she is spun around and she must force her face to remain slack.

Seemingly placated he emits a short huff and shoves her backward, gaining only minimal satisfaction as she topples over. He leaves and slams the door, not wanting to spend too much time away from his comfortable post in the nurses' station.

Hannah's breath of relief is much more forceful, her body trembling uncontrollably, but a huge shit-eating grin stretches her face. Her giddy feeling propels her hopes forward, and she begins to scheme. _Step one in Operation: Pretend to be Sane Enough to Get the Fuck Outta Here is complete._

A royal guard steps smartly through the open door followed by a maid carrying an empty tray. Loki composes himself the best he can, straightening his back and glowering down his nose. He is an impressive sight...but the sneer that greets him tells another story. How I must look to these peasants...

As if able to read Loki's thoughts the guard raises his spear and motions towards the far wall. "Over there prisoner, the maid's here to grab your dishes." the Prince's eyes widen at the blatant offense but can say nothing, he can't even frown without his lips protesting, so quietly he moves towards the wall.

From behind the guard, the seemingly timid maid snickers and shoots a hateful glance at him. However a scowl sends her cowering back, and in her haste, she spills most of the uneaten shake on herself. The grin that slowly materializes on his face, pain be damned, is met by open hostility. They don't dare lay a finger on the imprisoned Prince but both spit on the floor in front of him.

"Monster..." a quiet voice whispers, and Loki's heart skips a beat unthinkingly he hurls a chair toward the closing door.

_A monster am I? Shocking how easily these low-borns show their true colors._ His hands are still shaking in anger when his stomach growls, reminding him he hadn't touched his food before they took it. _Damn..._it is at this point that his exhaustion hits full force and his knees buckle and his mind starts to fog. He stumbles to the bed and grimaces as he catches a look at his reflection, _I believe a bath is in order before any sleep is to be had._ He changes course and heads towards the bath, secretly grateful for this small mercy.

His hands clamp onto the edge as if it were a lifeline, the cool stone helps to clear his clouded mind. With a flip of the tap hot water gushes out, the steam gently curling around his face. _Oh by the Norns..._ Already feeling slightly refreshed he grabs the box of nearby herbs and sprinkles them in, allowing the calming aromas to further clear his senses he gets undressed.

Strong shoulders shrug of his heavy overcoat, still covered in debris from New York, SHIELD never letting him change in the three months they held him for questioning. _Barbaric little heathens._ The heavy leather thuds to the floor and he sighs with relief, next he bends down making quick work of the buckles on his boots, his stockings follow. Nimble fingers reach up and unclasp the belt hidden underneath his black and gold tunic, the soft hide sliding sinfully against his pale skin. His tunic is the last thing standing between him and the steaming water currently filling the tub, impatience gets the best of him and he rips his tunic over his head roughly grazing his lips. _Son of a **WHORE**!_ Slowly he straightens up, the pain having caused him to double over and grip the tub.

Wobbling knees remind him of his exhaustion and he steps into the tub and sinks down into the water. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his skull at the soothing quality the water sent over his aching body, while the herbs loosen his muscles. Without realizing it...he falls asleep.

She is surrounded, orderly's on every side grabbing her with iron grasps. They pull tight, lifting her off the ground, preparing to take her to a "treatment room".

"No! Stop!" she shouted, eyes wide and terrified. She screamed as they bustle her down the hall, her cries are echoed by the other patients. Finally arriving at their destination they shimmy into the small door frame and deposit her onto a padded table. Sweat slicked her entire body, from her shaved head to her toes. She doesn't stop fighting even after being roughly strapped in, her arms and legs flail to their fullest extent. From an outside view, she looks like a rabid beast, her eyes wide and rolling, her wrists and ankles begin to turn red and even bleed from her attempts at escape. Her mouth gnashes at the air, while her throat is seemingly ripped with howls and screeches.

A shadow passes over her face, and her struggles halt, with shaking breath her eyes lift toward the source.

"Hello...Dearest." it is Dr. Andrews, using a pet name reserved for these private "sessions", he reaches down and gently strokes her face only to be rejected with an inhuman hiss.

A frown appears and hand transforms into a balled fist, that slams into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs.

"Now Dearest, you must behave if these trials are to go _smoothly_", he runs a finger across her forehead as if to flip a switch on her behavior. It is unsuccessful.

"FUCK YOU! YOU PIECE OF SHIT!" her breath has returned with full force. It should be a warning, the wicked smile that follows her outburst, but apparently, she decides to ignore it.

"What was that Dearest?"

"I said: FUCK-" his fist rams a gag deep into her mouth, she swallows blood from a cut on her tongue her screams muffled by the gag but the rage in her eyes is undeniable.

"I heard from a little birdie you've been refusing your medication..." Dr. Andrews continues, referring to the recent struggles surrounding her pills. Hearing it said aloud causes her to still, he takes it as an admission of guilt and his smile widens. "Well, well so there is some truth to the rumor. You are aware of the consequences aren't you?"

Her breath becomes rapid and her eyes roll, she has no memories of these "consequences" but evidently, her body remembers the pain as it begins to tremble violently.

"Now let us start the first trial." electrodes are placed along her body and several hands gravitate to places they had no business being. She struggles and growls until the hands retreat, next two large pads are placed on her temples.

"Let me explain what's going to happen, Dearest. I will be testing a new study I recently read about and you are going to be my lovely assistant." he approaches her with two, gel-covered diodes in his hands. "But first, James will you do the honors?"

James quickly comes to the side of her bed with a tray, on it is a large syringe and scissors. He takes the scissors and cuts away her flimsy gown leaving her in only the ugly underwear that the institute provides. He not so gently jabs the needle into her gut and injects a liquid that both freezes her veins and burns her bones. _Oh, shit it hurts, it hurts, it **HURTS**!_ She thrashes as the pain moves outward from the injection site.

Dr. Andrews approaches and places the diodes on each side of her temples, on top of the pads. "Let us start with 230 volts shall we?", James merely nods and adjusts the knob on the machine accordingly.

Tears spring to her eyes and she silently begs for mercy, but she will find none from the orderlies or the Doctor. Electricity courses through her skull and her mind goes blank and her existence is only defined by pain.

Loki's eyes snap open, the water has lost all warmth and his skin wrinkled, _Damn, that woman again? It cannot possibly be a dream...and I am quite certain it is not magic. Although in my current state I am incapable of being completely certain._ Groaning, but feeling better than before, he raises himself from the tub, water pouring off him, rivulets flowing over the new scars on his back and sides. He avoids the mirror as he gets out, not wanting to see the reminders of his time with the Other. _Tsk_. Embracing the plush towel that awaits him, he removes the plug from the tub and returns to his small room, night has fallen over Asgard and he is wide awake. Drying off he glances around for replacement clothes, spotting a small alcove full of soft garments he selects a black shirt and matching pants. In this time he has made up his mind and turns towards the library,_ I will discover what these visions are, and their origin. Never again will I be another's pawn._

**_A/N: Well? worth the wait? Let me know!_**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello again! Sorry for the long wait...and for the fact this one is short. My "writing season" is usually Feb-Oct and I'll be getting better at writing longer/better chapters; so again this is just a short little taste!**

**Song Suggestion: 8 Graves-Burning**** Alive**

Chapter 5

Days pass without further incident, Loki passes the time researching. Although with his limited library his progress is slow. _Damn it all!_ the book goes flying from his hands its contents having proved to be useless. _If only my lips weren't bound, I would even settle for access to the Royal Library._ He had noticed anytime he attempted magic the thread would tighten considerably causing excruciating pain. Going forward he hasn't even used the simplest of magics, relying only on the leather-bound tomes he was given.

Once again a guard announces the arrival of his mid-day meal, as usual, he was forced to stand against the wall. Loki's lips have healed enough that he can at least scowl properly when the new maid dared to make eye contact. _It seems the previous wretch finally snapped._ A cruel smile twists his features as he remembers his petty revenge on the servant who had dared call him a "monster". The mouthfuls of blood he had to swallow was well worth her screams of horror as his simple illusion made her believe her skin was peeling off in large rolls.

She flinches at the raw-looking appearance of his mouth, seeming disgusted she refrains from looking at him again. On the other hand, the guard, who has let his hate for the Dark Prince known, has grown bold. So much so that he frequently calls him "Jotun" to his face. _Let him have this sense of victory, I have plans for him. _

Yet these things were not important in this moment before the maid turned to leave Loki stepped forward to halt her progress. A small scream escaped her lips and the guard lunged, the lunge was easily dodged and he easily grabs her wrist. As she struggles in his grasp his other hand emerges from his tunic with a sealed envelope and he shoves it in her face.

A confused look appears on her face before his intentions dawn on her, she takes it seconds before the guard strikes him in the head.

Day, night, day, night. Time has lost all meaning, there is simply pain and darkness for the woman laying, in the small cell.

_Back here again?_

Loki sees the glazed look in her eyes but even more so the numerous bruises and puncture marks. Her skin is pulled tight over her skull and the sight stirs his own memories, quickly shaking off the tremors that have started in his hands he takes advantage of an unbound mouth.

"You, woman." no response. "Midgaurdian" again no response. He continues on, simply for the sound of his own voice and the use of his mouth. "I suppose you are in no state to answer questions, let's see if you are vision, illusion or some other form of magic." stepping smartly forward he goes to touch her. Completely expecting his hand to pass right through her he is quite surprised when her pale clammy flesh met his with a definite solidness.

She jerks instinctively at the foreign touch, her head loling away from the perceived threat. Her mind is nothing but fog swirling about trying to keep the pain at bay quite successfully until that hand touched her. The muddy sensation clogging her senses starts to fade and the world begins to come into focus. Starting with her hearing, a sharp voice is asking questions _What the fuck..._

"Are you an invalid or have they broken you?" the voice is more than sharp it has a commanding quality an air of authority that puts her on edge. A quick shake of her head and the rest comes to focus, the chill of the floor through the thin material of her gown, her aches and pains throbbing through her limbs.

"Wh-what?" it barely sounds human, the sound rattles around the room echoing, her throat is unaccustomed to speaking, making it painful and laborious.

_Tch_ "I despise having to repeat myself." he is the same man as before, his thin lips are turned down in a frown, "Let me re-phrase my questions and you will answer them." a tongue darts out and moistens the lips while taking a nonchalant step forward. He quickly realized his mistake as she collapses while scrambling away from him. Loki stops and raises his hands in placation, _Skittish creature isn't she. _

"Easy Midguardian. I am seeking answers, not your pain." just like that, his voice lost its edge and the woman is able to breathe again. "Let us try this again, from the beginning. Who are you?"

She responds to the now genuine tones coming from him nodding her understanding. "M-My name is Hannah." a fit of bone-dry coughs rack her thin frame. For what seems like an eternity she is hunched over in pain. Loki's eyes narrow, focusing on her wounds; there were many but what really stands out is the variety of causes. Burns every kind, deep cuts, shallow scrapes, a rainbow of bruises and what he suspects is a few cracked ribs.

"Hm, Hannah", a pause in conversation as he decides how to word his next questions as to not startle the wretch in front of him. "Hannah, do you know where you are being housed? The name of this Midguardian hell-hole?"

Eyes focus and unfocus in thought, "I'm...I'm in Bellview."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello! Back again, not sure if anyone is out there but I'm here plugging away. I'm going to try to put out a chapter a month so they will be longer. The story is going to start to get a bit darker after this chapter, and more action. Anyway hope you enjoy it!**

**Warning: Torture, cussing, suggested non-con touching**

**Song: ****Stigmata****-Grandson**

As soon as she utters the name of her prison the man disappears._ Another dream?_ moans escape her lips as she shifts her weight. The past three weeks have been absolute hell.

_Dr. Andrews paced as she wriggled against the bindings of her bed, jotting notes watching her suffer her way through another "experiment". "Oh, Dearest, you are doing far better than I imagined." his grin widened as Hannah finally stilled. Tears stained her face and drool seeped from around the gag that kept her from biting her tongue. Hannah had been tube fed a burning liquid and been prodded with an electric prod. Dr. Andrews had explained that this liquid was supposed to enhance her pain tolerance, but if the readings from the machine attached to her were any indication...it needed work. _

_Hannah was released from her bonds by the burly hands of the orderlies, brutish fingers grasp her wrists and unceremoniously deposit her in front of the "good" doctor. She lies there in a crumpled heap occasionally twitching, Dr. Andrews crouched down and grasped her chin, forcing her gaze to his. _

_"Such interesting results Dearest!" his voice climbed with the "praise". When no obvious reaction was given he frowned slightly and snapped his fingers in her face. Bleary, bloodshot eyes opened and attempted to focus on her tormentor with no luck; she slipped back into darkness and knew no more. _

_"Tsk. Prepare her for rest and clean the room for tomorrow's trial!" he barked to the men standing idly, sending them into a swarm of busy hands. _

This experiment continued with different variables and doses over the past three weeks. Dr. Andrews insured never to prod the same places as to keep her tolerance "fresh". At the end of every session, his hands roamed checking her out a little too thoroughly. She was only subconsciously aware of this and when she would regain her senses a feeling of filth and shame would linger beyond her understanding.

In all this time the man never reappears and Hannah is uncertain if she is relieved to be free of what she thinks are hallucinations or worried that it means her brain's only coping mechanism is failing.

Three weeks since he sent that wrench off with his letter, three weeks since he has been spirited away, and Loki is **bored**. His only company the ever-changing chambermaids and the unoriginal jibes of his guards, _Tsk, a gilded cage indeed._ Loki's gaze razed the floor to wall bookcases for an unread tome, it is unsuccessful and his patients run out, he flings the tomes in front of him in disgust.

"Well now, is that any way for my son, a Prince should act?" Loki whips around to find the source of the lovely voice belonging to his mother. His search leads him to a full length-mirror, near the entrance of the bathing chamber, in which his mother appeared. Her smile doesn't quite reach her worried eyes and Loki feels a pang of guilt at being the cause.

"My, son, how thin you've gotten!" again the strain in her voice cause Loki's heart to clench. Her concern is met with only a scowl.

_It's hard to maintain one's frame when I cannot eat solid food. _

A tinkling of sarcastic laughter erupts from his mother's mouth, "True, and yet the stitches would be out faster if you wouldn't threaten and scare every scullery maid that is assigned to you."

This time his bound mouth smiled genuinely, _Ah, but with the limited number of books, I had to find some way to entertain myself._

"Is that the reason for your tantrum then?" she chuckles as Loki's cheeks turn rosy.

_No, Mother, just insanely frustrated at my predicament and a certain puzzle, whose solution eludes me without further materials for research._

"Ah, a puzzle you say?" Freya asks trying to keep her youngest son talking, "I imagine this is what prompted your letter then?" Loki nods and she continues. "Well I am quite certain your Father," she pauses at his dower glare, "won't allow you to visit the library with the large amounts of complaints you've managed to receive in such a short period. However, if you would trust me with some, not even all, of the details I may be able to gather some relevant materials..." she trails off and Loki weighs his options.

In the end, he decides to trust his mother, after all, if not the one he respects above all others, then who?_ I am looking for information on links between worlds._ Freya looks startled. _Specifically between people. Oh, Mother, do not look so frightened I am not plotting my escape just yet._ His chuckle is warm and Freya gives him a small grin and nods.

"Anything else my son?"

_No, I only have this as a starting place for now..._Freya nods and begins to turn away, _and mother?_ She turns back to look at him, _Thank you, for everything._ She quickly nods and turns away so he doesn't see her eyes beginning to water. For all of his faults, she loves Loki more than anyone could ever understand.

Hannah is exposed to more and more types of pain, once she started showing tolerance to one, Dr. Andrews started to up the ante. The slice of a blade replaces the burning shocks of late, and she soon became covered in neat, surgical stitches. After a rather messy episode of Hannah ripping her stitches open in defiance, the orderlies now place lockable mittens on her hand at the end of each session.

_At least I don't have to take those fucking pills anymore._ an optimistic thought in a dark moment keeps her sane. It's true, shortly after the tolerance trials began Dr. Andrews removed her pill regime, his reasoning "I want your mind as clear as possible to maximize the reactions." it was whispered into her ear during one of the first nights of the trial. Since then not another pill had passed her lips, and she is ever more _painfully_ aware of her environment and what is being done to her body. Especially with the last dredges of drugs leaving her mind, for the first time in two years, she is free from mind-numbing pills.

While her mind regains itself, her body starts to fail, mainly due to misuse and abuse. Hannah's frame pushes against her taut skin. Her main source of nutrients comes from a tube connected to her vein or shoved down her throat and it is not enough. Especially with the trials and stress, she looks nothing like the woman who two years ago was on the upswing in life. Hannah's only respite is the fact that she is allowed a some-what invasive hygiene regime. A cold blast of water, followed by a rough scrubbing by an orderly, her head shaved once a week, and a **closely** supervised tooth brushing twice a day. As such her skin is chapped, red and itchy much to her nightly chargain.

Dr. Andrews has grown increasingly "attached" to her as well, seemingly with laser focus, the trials awakening a hunger in him that does not bode well for her. Before every trial or experiment, he commands the orderlies to leave the room when alone Dr. Andrews approaches Hannah's bound form and smiles unnervingly. He greets her with his pet name "Dearest, such exciting results and such exciting plans for the future!" His reverent stare unsettles her more and she glares and screams the best she can while bound and gagged. It doesn't impress the "good" doctor, but he does chuckle at the effort. He then continues his monologue, Hannah tunes him out, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of an audience.

At the end of each session she is bathed, and if necessary, stitched up; afterward, a thin slip of cloth is put over her head and she is placed in a small room. It is her world now, _Fuck, everything hurts..._ her body is riddled with a rainbow of bruises and corded scars dot her flesh. With what little energy she has left she stretches unused limbs in an attempt to lessen the aching, it doesn't do much good and she passes out mid-stretch. She dreams...

A familiar figure paces around a beautiful stone room, Wow the sight of the intricate designs and carvings take her breath away. The man turns quickly as if hearing her for the first time, _It's HIM!_ The figure is no other than her mystery visitor, _What did he call himself again? Lorfy? Lodi?_ Misunderstanding her silence, he speaks: "Midguardian...you are here?" he moves forward to touch her and she scrambles away screeching. "Do you not remember me?" He studies her, the wild eyes and battered appearance, much worse than the last time they met.

Hannah is at a loss, an internal tug of war between running away and the hand of the only soul who hasn't hurt her. In the end, the decision is made for her, "Tsk, Midguardian, that is enough. You plague me and beg for my help, yet when I attempt it...you act as if I am your aggressor." Loki strides forward and touches her, and at that moment both Loki and Hannah are pulled from his cell.

Hannah's eyes open and Dr. Andrews is leaning over her with the electrical prod.

"Oh, back again Dearest? You were out for a moment and I was dreading an early end to the trial!" He coos and strokes the instrument du jor, but she isn't looking at her, rather over his shoulder at the piercing green eyes just behind the Doctor.

"Mmmph!" Hannah writhes and silently pleads with the man to help her. _Please, please help me! I'll do fucking anything!_

Loki's eyes widen slightly at the intrusive thoughts in his head, surprised at the ability demonstrated by the Midguardian. Curious if he could do anything to the sadistic man in front of him, he stretches his lanky arm out and attempts to grab him.

Hannah sees the man's hand go through Dr. Andrews and she screams in frustration, tears running down her face. The reaction startles the Doctor and he drops his probe, he bends down to pick it up leaving Hannah with a full view of Loki. She redoubles her attempts at communicating. _Please, please, please, please! Do something, anything!_

Dr. Andrews straightens up and readjusts his glasses, "Dearest, I haven't even started again, what has you in such a tizzy?" He raises the probe and sticks into her abdomen, watching her eyes roll back into her head, he chuckles and does it twice more.

_Disgusting_, Loki's own memories stir and he pushes them down,_ Tsk, this is not even a quarter of what I would call pain._ Even so, Loki walks around the mad doctor to examine Hannah. Sweat slicks her naked body making her glisten under the bright surgical lights, tremors wrack her frame as blood trickles out of her gag. A twinge of sympathy ran down Loki's frame and he reaches out a comforting hand.

He instantly regrets it as his skin begins to itch then transitions to a mild burning sensation. Yet, as he looks around, he realizes it's in fact not his skin. Above him is the man with the probe, he attempts to move and finds "his" arms are restrained. Next, he looks down...and sees a pair of breasts he did not own before. He was in the Midguardian's body! _By the Norns!_

The lack of pain causes Hannah to gasp in relief, a cool dark numbness washes over her entire being as if she wasn't bound and tortured a few moments ago. She is standing in a ring of light illuminating the middle of a dark room. Hemming on the edges of the lights is what appears to be a tangled web of roots, a quiet humming emanating from them sent calming waves into Hannah's psyche. Curiosity gets the better of her, she stumbles towards the edge only to be met with the thick, gnarled roots, unpassable, unmoveable and undeniably real.

_What is this place? Where is Lorki? Lofty? Whatever the fuck his damn name is_. Hannah's hands reach out, and for the first time, she notices her skin is unmarred. Curiously she glances down and lets her hands glide across her pale skin, tears prick her eyes at the untortured condition. Almost hesitantly she touches her scalp to find a head of short curled hair; _Wh-what? Why?_ She finally lets it all out screams, tears flowing. The catharsis is long overdue and when it ends she is left in a pile on the floor. Hannah struggles to her feet, strangely she isn't as exhausted as she expected and she uses her remaining energy to look for a way out of the circle. When she finds none, she starts to worry, then panics.

"Lodi? Lonny? ...Damn it! Answer me you lanky FUCK!" her frantic cries echo in the dark and fear starts to settle in.

Loki grins around the gag in his mouth, an old tang of irony blood rests on his tongue, and he is aware that it isn't his own. As uncomfortable as it was, the pain pales in comparison to his own muzzle. The man called Dr. Andrews steps back in surprise at the change in the demeanor of his guinea pig.

"Oh? Is the serum working?" he quickly crosses the room to jot notes on a device before returning with a syringe. "Let's test it some more, shall we?" The long needle is quickly plunged into the stomach of the bound form. "No reaction?"

Loki seeths inside the Midguradians body, while the needle is unpleasant, the indignation is almost more than he could bear._ Bastard, Midguradian TRASH!_ He struggles against bindings but stays silent, save the low, but very feminine, growl coming from his throat.

Dr. Andrews smiles and brings a scalpel from a sterile tray beside him, "Now Dearest, if this hurts, just...shout." he chuckles at his own joke and brings the glinting blade down the closest arm. Loki flinches but makes no sound, instead he plots the man's demise, conjuring images of embarrassment and torture that no human could live through.

Forty minutes later, Dr. Andrews is sweat-slicked, his sleeves rolled up and speckled with blood and flesh. Hannah's body is a mass of torn flesh and bruises, the product of a whip and an eager arm. Loki had uttered not a single noise of complaint, though the flesh shivered in agony and exhaustion, his tolerance was far higher than any lowly mortal. At the absence of tears, cries, or any of her usual reactions, Dr. Andrews amped up his usual methods and got lost in his vigor.

"Now, look what you've made me do, Dearest! Your poor thighs are practically mincemeat!" he pauses to catch his breath, "I think we are finished for the night!" he stretches his back and goes to a panel in the wall shutting off the recording device before returning to the slab. Dr. Andrews glances at the glowering face of the "woman" below him and trails a hand down her face, wiping spots of blood away. The hand never stops its descent and continues down her neck, between her breasts and down her abdomen. At the impending intrusion, Loki finally reacted with a howl and gnashed at the gag, a mild burning kept him from lashing out with the lower limbs. It seems to please the asshole above him and the hand leaves along with the Doctor, he again goes to the panel in the wall and this time presses a button. Minutes later a nurse and orderlies appear, while the nurse avoids looking at the bound form, the orderlies each grab a limb in preparation of defiance.

Loki, infuriated and helpless has no choice but to allow it...then he hears something inside his mind. A small voice growing louder and more urgent._ ...you lanky FUCK! _

Instantly he is back in his room, a crumpled heap on the floor, a curious guard toeing at him.

"You awake Jouten Bastard?" a particularly strong jab in his spine and Loki is on his feet, his hand around the guard's throat.

"AHH! H-HELP!" he screams for back up, several other guards pour into the room and Loki releases his captive stepping back with his hands held up. The flustered guard scrambles to his feet and retrieves his fallen weapon. As soon as their comrade is up and safe, they enclose him in a circle and met out punishment.

Loki is pushed down, he steels himself for what is to come...a swift kick in the spine forces his a grunt from between his bound lips. Several more follow until a bellowing voice erupts from the doorway.

"ENOUGH!" Thor stands a dark shadow on his face. The crown prince positively radiated furious energy. "Leave...NOW!" they bolted in fear of their lives as Thor steps toward his brother and offers him a large hand. It is swatted away, as the younger god climbs nimbly to his feet, and quickly brushes off the boot marks.

"Loki..." Thor's voice is soft and pleading, ever seeking for the brother he knew as a child. Loki cannot respond but his spiteful glare speaks volumes.

_Bastard, what do you want? The first time he's come to visit since I was left to rot in here._ Of course, Thor couldn't hear him, Loki had tried to communicate with him like this manner in the past it never worked and he always suspected it was due to Thor's thick skull. _Daft fool, thinking I wish to see him after all he's done._

Thor oblivious to the venom being spewed in his direction offers a small smile in Loki's direction. "I-I've come to appeal to Father again." hearing mention of Odin, Loki's look turns evermore dower. "Now, brother, such a look is unbecoming." he chuckles and continues, "If all goes well I hope to have your lips unbound!"

At this revelation Loki perks up, his lips tingle with the hope of being free, _If this baffoon manages to convince Odin to remove these stitches..._Loki doesn't dare give himself false hope.

Hannah is back in her body, and she hates every second of it. Her thighs are a mess, a thick salve covers the wounds and wrapped in gauze. Any movement triggers a hiss, of pain and she bites her lip and clenches her fists.

_As soon as she landed back in her body she screamed, the pain, while dulled it was intense. She was taken to a room and scrubbed where able, the rough cloth exacerbated her skin and tears streamed down her face. The nurses patched her up, and the orderlies deposited her unceremoniously on her hard cot. A syringe of antibiotics was jabbed into her arm and she barely flinched at the minuscule pain detracting from her thighs along with the deep cuts on her arms and abdomen. Dr. Andrews was gone, pitty, he would have enjoyed her reactions. The screams, tears, and rebellion seemed to be one of his guilty pleasures, but he was far too interested in the data collected from this particular trial. He had decided to forgo any further trials until Hannah had healed a bit, he acknowledged that this time he went a bit too far...it was enjoyable, exciting even but a dead patient cannot be subjected to more trails. _

Hannah uses the time of rest to contemplate the strange occurrence that spirited her away from her torture. She had already tried to call out to the man again, but he either ignored her or can not hear her. _I'm just thankful that whatever it is that happened kept me from being aware while all this fucking damage was caused._ Hannah is pissed, to put it mildly, her anger is very justified but she is still unsure what exactly happened. _One moment I'm in pain, crying like a bitch...the next poof, I'm in that weird place._

She tries to recall and organize the memory of it, the sights, smells textures anything that would give a hint as to what it was. Real or imaginary. _Heh, if Loki weren't involved I would chalk it up to another mental break, but with that man...it seems like it could be real._ She stops her train of thought abruptly, realizing for the first time that she had no idea what or who Loki is. _He is real, that's for sure, but the things he seems capable of...he can't be human...can he?_ She further contemplates remembering the whispers and conversations about the attack in New York. While the thought of it sends her anxiety into overdrive, she drives through it the best she can, taking deep breaths to fight off the tremors and closing her eyes to try and fight the tears. _Aliens they had said, is Loki an Alien? He doesn't look anything like those...things. But maybe that's a ruse..._she attempts to stave off a mild panic attack at the thought of being used by one of the creatures who nearly killed her almost three years ago. _Find three things around me and focus on them!_ In such a barren room, it's a momentous task, she searches the ceiling and finds a water stain. _It...it's shaped like a foot...it's yellow..._she takes several deep breaths and moves on, finding a cobweb in the corner of the room. _Cobwebs...built by spiders, stronger than steel..._ several more deep breaths, her heart rate slows down. Last she focuses on the dirty window _Its grimey, but you can still see the sun...the sun fuck, I feel like I haven't felt that on my skin in forever..._ a few more deep breaths and she is relaxed enough to get a grip on her tremors.

However, she isn't able to think much more as a group of orderlies and nurses come in with a bucket of water, a tray of food and several syringes.

"Now, here's how this is going to go," starts James the foremost in the group, "we are gonna bathe you, give you these antibiotics and then feed ya. Whether or not you fight us and we have to force all this...is really up to you." his face is hard, but a slightly pleading look can be seen in his eyes. While some of the others might like when patients fight, as an excuse to rough them up, James likes the easy way. He's really only here for the benefits the job provides, while he thinks Dr. Andrews is a major creep, he offers full health coverage cheap and the pay isn't too bad either.

Hannah briefly considers fighting but a singular throb from her abdomen causes her to rethink and she just nods. Her voice is too rough to speak but they understand her nod of compliance. They surround her and assist her into a sitting position while the nurse gently strips her gown. It is an easy task as it is only held in place by a few ties in the back. Once nude the orderlies move in holding her up and moving her around to scrub the exposed flesh.

One or two of the hands start to fondle rather than scrub and she growls, they snicker and revert to a scrubbing motion. _For fucks sake, can't I have just one "bath" without this shit?!_ It infuriates her, but with her strength all but gone, growling is the most she could do, especially if she wants to keep her stitches in place. A few angry tears prick her eyes and the nurse looks away in shame. _Damn right you piece of shit, you feel bad. I hope you can't sleep at night._ Idle threats make her feel a little less helpless, but that small comfort is destroyed the moment James comes towards her with the clippers. She hangs her head as she feels the rough blades sheer away the tiny amount of fuzz that has managed to grow back. Her tears flow freely now as she remembers the curly hair she sported in the circle of light. How normal it made her feel compared to this is gut-wrenching, especially knowing the reason behind it. _What does that fucker want now?_ she has no time to further question, the nurse injects antibiotics into both thighs and one in her arm. _SHIT_! it burns, but only for a moment, and it is a small blip on the pain scale compared to what happens next. Her thighs need to be cleaned and re-bandaged, even though the nurse attempts to be gentle, some of the scabs have adhered to the gauze, causing small wounds when they are removed. A silent howl causes the orderlies to grip her shoulders tightly, she clenches the sheets as the nurse applies disinfectant and a salve. Only after the numbing properties from the salve kicked in did the tension leave her face.

"Sorry...I really am." the nurse whispers to her while rewrapping each thigh. Hannah gently places a hand on her shoulder and the nurse freezes in terror. The orderlies inch closer ready to strike but Hannah just motions to the toilet with a pleading look on her face. "Oh." realization hits the nurse and she and James help her up.

"You lot can go now," James tells the others, certain Hannah is going to behave. After relieving herself, she wipes and is led back to the cot. Her thin gown is retied and James puts the tray in front of her. "Eat up, the Doctor wants to interview you or some shit."

Hannah nods, she figured she was getting a visit since James shaved her head. She eats if only to regain her strength, it is strange but after the last trial, she had felt less exhausted than usual. Hannah is thankful for that and starts shoveling food in her mouth, chewing quickly and downing the water. No sooner had she finished, the intercom above her door crackles to life.

"James, bring her to my office I'm ready for her now." Dr. Andrews's voice is all honey, thick and sweet. _Nauseating. I'm glad I finished my food already, that would've killed my appetite._

James takes her empty tray and the nurse scuttles out of the room and returns with a wheelchair. "Look at that a carriage fit for a queen!" he says sarcastically, "Up you go your highness." he lifts her and she wobbles to the chair, determined to do most of the work herself. I need to get stronger...

The nurse led the way out of the room and promptly left their company, unwilling to go anywhere near Dr. Andrews if not necessary. "Looks like it's just you and me toots," James says flatly as he wheels her by door after door of moaning, screaming, crying and whining patients._ At least I'm not the only one_ she immediately feels guilty at the thought of others going through the same sort of trials. _Fuck this place, fuck that fucking fuck. _

They stop in front of a heavy wooden door and James steps forward to knock. Dr. Andrews' voice answers after the first knock. "Come in, come in, don't keep me waiting!" James opens the door and wheels her backward through it. He pushes her in front of the large desk where the Doctor is seated.

"You want me to stay or..." James asks, hoping to be excused.

"Yes, yes you may go," Dr. Andrews says with annoyance, "and close the door on your way out. No interruptions unless it's an emergency!"

No further urging needed, James turns and quickly exits, closing the thick door behind him with a thud.

Hannah glances around the room, bookcases line two walls, the other is dedicated to certificates, framed articles, and diagrams; two large windows take up space behind the desk allowing for massive amounts of sunshine in when the blinds are opened. Unfortunately, they are closed and Hannah can't help but wish they weren't _I miss the sun..._it felt strange to miss such an everyday thing like the sun but Dr. Andrews isn't letting her mind wander for long.

"Now Dearest, it's been a few days and I hear your condition is improving! Soon we can get back to business." he sounds like a child talking to a favorite toy. All vim and vigor, without actually treating her like a real person. "For now," he continues, "I am going to conduct an interview. I would kindly suggest you cooperate." And there it is the real Dr. Andrews. his voice has taken on a darker tone, full of violent suggestions.

"I-I..." her voice cracks and squeaks. She rubs her throat and coughs.

"Where are my manners?" back to his sickly sweet voice he produces a pitcher of water and a glass. After he pours a generous glass he sets it in reach of her and motions to it, "It's not drugged if that's what you're thinking."_ I was_ "I can't conduct a good interview if that were the case." _True..._she grabs the glass and downs it. He takes a recorder out of a drawer and presses a button.

"Dr. Andrews working out of Bellview in New York, patient number 230082. Conducting a mid-trial interview with serum 949-J32. Now Dea-Hannah, tell me on a scale of 1 to 10 how much pain are you in currently?"

He can't be serious. She stares dumbly at him, mouth working like a goldfish.

"Hannah let me repeat myself, on a scale of 1 to 10 how. Much. Pain?" Dr. Andrews' eyes warn her to comply.

"I guess a 4?"

"Marvelous! And trials previously? More or less?"

"They hurt more but what do you expect when a psycho jabs you with a scalpel?" it hurt to talk but felt good to finally face him.

"Now, now Hannah, no need for hyperbole!" he chuckles like she's some over dramatic teenager.

She frowns and opens her mouth to retort but a single finger raises in warning and she stops. The interview continues with questions of side-effects, psychological questions and even trick questions at the end of it he smiles and asks a surprising question.

"One last question Hannah, what do you want most right now?"

She instantly knew the answer, "I want to get the fuck out of here and into the sun." her voice is fervent. The fiendish grin that spreads across his face makes her regret her answer but nothing immediately happens. He simply turns off the device and calls for an orderly to take her back to her room.

_Shit, shit, shit. What did I just get myself into?_ she is placed inside her room and onto her cot. Unaware of the orderly leaving, she is too deep into her worry. Why couldn't I keep my goddamn mouth closed? It has to be a trap, somehow. She starts to hyperventilate and she starts to spiral.

Suddenly she sees two booted feet in the corner of her eye, she turns to find Loki, watching her.

"Hello, Midguardian. I would like to offer you a deal."

**A/N: and that's chapter 6. Please, pretty please leave a comment/review. I need to get better :)**


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